


Carry On

by DJBunn3



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, F/M, Insanity, inspired by Carry On by Rainbow Rowell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-15
Updated: 2016-10-15
Packaged: 2018-08-22 12:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8285383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DJBunn3/pseuds/DJBunn3
Summary: In his head, he’s still in that chair.





	

**Author's Note:**

> “I let myself slip away... Just to stay sane. Just to get through it. And when I felt myself slipping too far, I held on to the one thing I'm always sure of - Blue eyes. Bronze curls. The fact that Simon Snow is the most powerful magician alive. That nothing can hurt him, not even me. That Simon Snow is alive. And I'm hopelessly in love with him.”  
> \- Baz from Carry On by Rainbow Rowell

In his head, he’s still in that chair.  
His wrists and ankles are chained to it. His mouth is open and tense in one everlasting scream. His fingers and toes are being hacked off by that tool, held in the hand of the person he could become if he ever lets go.  
His hair might as well have always been white-- _has_ always been white, as far as he’s concerned. And the horrifying scurrying noises permanently echoing in his ears are scratched into his mind forever.  
Sometimes, he leaves. He gets closer and closer to insanity, to breaking, to _dying_ in that chair. Even though he’s out and he’s free, because he’s really _not_ when you think about it. Sometimes, when it gets to be too much, he releases his kakuja and his eyes roll into the back of his head-- and he lets go.  
But never too far. He never, ever loses himself completely, because he’s seen people go there and he knows that there’s no way of getting back. Not if he clawed his way up from the fiery pits of hell would he truly return to himself.  
So when he’s losing control, and he tastes blood and hears slimy insect legs and the laughter of those who are gone, he grasps at the thread of hope he has left.  
Purple-gray eyes. Soft, short hair the color of home. Taunts and teasing and sometimes, when she lets her guard down, a _hint_ of a smile.  
The fact that Touka Kirishima is out there, somewhere.  
The fact that he’s hopelessly in love with her.


End file.
